Tuesday 6 April 2021

Speaking about the holiness of God

Dr. Michael Haykin, Professor of Church History (mhaykin@sbts.edu)

The holiness of God is a fundamental conviction of the Bible. “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts,” the prophet Isaiah heard angelic beings proclaiming in a vision of God that he had (Isaiah 6).

The holiness of God, first of all, means that God is completely different from his creation. He is the Creator, unique and in total control of all that he has made. Human beings—like every other creature in this universe, from galaxies to gnats, from mountains to moles—are limited in what we can do. Our knowledge is finite, never exhaustive. And our lives on this earth are relatively short in duration and often dogged by painful experiences—“nasty, brutish, and short,” is the way that the seventeenth-century philosopher Thomas Hobbes once described them. Not so God. He is immortal, can do all that his good pleasure decides, and has absolutely no limitations. To say God is holy is then to speak of his uniqueness and his otherness from his creation.

By extension, God’s holiness means that God is without any moral blemish. He, unlike humanity, has never erred, can never err, and will never err. Whether it has to do with matters of knowledge or moral issues, God is splendidly flawless. By contrast, human beings are not. We are flawed—far more flawed than most of us would like to admit. We tend to think of ourselves as “good” people. As Jesus Christ once said, though, there is none good but God alone. At the centre of what makes us who we are—what makes us tick, as it were—there is a “bentness,” a crookedness that makes us fail each other, hurt each other, and even hate each other. And only in the brilliant light of the moral perfection of God, do we see ourselves clearly for what we are: marred and broken creatures—yes, sinful creatures.

There is hope, though. And that is the gospel. We can find healing for our souls through the Lord Jesus Christ and his death on the cross for all the wrong that we have thought, said or done. Now, when we become followers of the Lord Jesus Christ (who, while fully sharing our humanity, never did, said, or thought anything wrong) and enter into a living relationship with the God who made the heavens and the earth and all that are in them, we discover that we have been given a passion to be morally pure like God. We hunger to be holy as he is holy. We desire to know what it is like to live in total harmony with ourselves and our fellow human beings. And we come to realize that holiness is a necessary pathway to true happiness. In fact, if anyone claims to know God, who is holy, and that person has no interest in living a life marked by holiness, there is something seriously wrong in their claim.

Trying to live in a holy way—to order everything we do or think or say from the point of view of God—and to do this from the core of our lives is not easy, for human societies are anything but holy. There is much that is beautiful in human culture and life, for which we thank God. But there is also much that is ugly and sinful. Not surprisingly, followers of Jesus Christ often find themselves at odds with their culture. Thus, there are constant temptations to give up living in a holy way. But God’s command to be holy as he is holy never ceases to resound in the hearts and minds of Christians. And the deep attractiveness of his total purity and utterly untainted character beckons us on along holiness’ pathway to heaven.

 


Tuesday 30 March 2021

One on the Right. One on the Left

Dr. David Barker, Professor of Biblical Studies (dbarker@heritagecs.edu)

I have long been intrigued and challenged by James’ and John’s request to sit on the “right” and “left” of Jesus in his kingdom. The account is recorded only by Matthew and Mark (and it was their mother who asked in Matthew’s account!). But as we read the Easter narratives the words “right” and “left” once again come crashing through the story, this time of the cross, or better, crosses. And again, recorded only by Matthew and Mark.

You see, there were three crosses, one on the right and one on the left of Jesus’. In the right and left request of James and John we see their coveting for power, position, prestige “when you come into your kingdom.” Jesus rebuffed his two disciples by illustrating with the power structures of the Gentiles and then the words “Not so with you.” He goes on to talk about servanthood.

Not so at Golgotha. The sign on Jesus’ cross was “King of the Jews.” He had truly “come into his kingdom.” And now, surprisingly, there were two criminals on the right and left of the King. I am sure the readers of Matthew and Mark would have picked up on the irony.

Two things emerge for me as I see these contrasting scenarios. First, to be on the right and left of Jesus in his kingdom is to be of the order of thieves and reprobates. And it is from there that we call on Jesus to remember us when he comes into his kingdom and receive the promise “today you will be with me in paradise.”

Second, to be on the right and left of King Jesus is to be on the right and left of the God/man hanging on a Roman cross. Yes, there will be a throne. We know the rest of the story. But it passes through his sacrificial death rooted in suffering, humility, and servanthood. If we don’t see the rescue/redemption/atonement story moving through this event, we miss the story and the message of hope it tells us.

The road to Sunday passes through Friday. The path to the empty tomb passes through crosses, his, theirs, and ours, and to flank the King in his kingdom we must meet him there.  

 

 

 

 

 


Tuesday 23 March 2021

Aslan Is On the Move...

Dr. Carolyn Weber, Professor of English Literature (cweber@heritagecs.edu)

If there is one thing we know as Canadians, it’s that the spring is always sweeter for the winter.

And if there is one thing we know as Christians, it’s that the restored world will far outdo our wildest imaginations, and that it will surely be more appreciated for all our sufferings. For on the continuum between Eden and Heaven, appreciation (in all its forms) makes all the difference.

Our earth beats with the pulse of its creator. We are a people of place because we were hewn from the earth. The unseen rivals are seen when we remember that the roots of trees are reflected in their branches, one veining as deep into earth as the other into sky. And the seasons remind us of the sacred rhythm of life: birth, fruition, decline and death. Within our own bodies, and within the order of our world, the cycle continues. Every sunrise sings of rebirth and foreshadows the eternal.

C.S. Lewis writes the following poem in his magical book The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe. It speaks of the prophecy of Aslan’s return. Aslan, the good and fearsome lion-saviour, the rightful ruler of Narnia – the one who will return as The King that will finally end the cruel reign of the evil White Witch. Aslan brings spring blazing behind him! And along with Narnia, our frozen hearts and stiff necks are thawed by grace into reverence, reunion and rejoicing.

 

Wrong will be right, when Aslan comes in sight,
At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more,
When he bares his teeth, winter meets its death,
And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again.

What a summer’s bliss heaven will be! Some find this harder to believe in a pandemic. And some, perhaps of a pandemic, do not.

And yet, is winter for naught?

Oh no, nothing is wasted. Winter makes the summer’s heralding of spring all the more indicative of how a desire fulfilled is indeed sweet to the soul. This spring, this rebirth, this growing into a new creature, is born from grace and yet also from running the good race: a birth endured, a life hard-won, with perseverance carved into character, and with more spiritual warfare taking place on behalf of each soul than we could ever fathom. There is a beauty all its own in such ice and snow, a haunting sound in such cracking and groaning of frozen lakes, even a breathlessness in the crystalized glory of nature glazed in frost, or in the bare branches scoring the sky in skeletal stillness. There is a word waiting to be spoken in the awesome power of the seed, seemingly asleep, underground.

As sure as the sun rises, and as sure as the Son rose, we shall have spring again.

I wrote my own following poem whilst on a walk with the earliest scent of spring in the air. I pray you will enjoy it. I pray that it will startle you into the unspeakable mercies of God as the miracle explosion startled me. I pray that as Aslan’s mane is shaken, so you will be – awakened by glorious glints of eternity and alight with the fire of the Holy Spirit!

For, after emerging from the cold and necessary work of the tomb, in the burning bush of your heart, I know you will have spring come again.

 

        Burning Bush

         As I round the corner

on my morning walk

the sun catches them

glinting among the leaves,

golden sparks on greenery:

a bush on fire -

 I am

the catalyst.

The explosion takes place as I pass!

        Clouds of golden finches burst forth –

a fireworks display –

in celebration

of this holy day.

 


Tuesday 16 March 2021

A wee note of Abraham Booth and our need for gentleness

Dr. Michael Haykin, Professor of Church History (mhaykin@sbts.edu) 

In recent days, I have been impressed with the significance of a name that was well-known among British evangelicals in the last decades of the long eighteenth century, but today is mostly forgotten, namely, that of Abraham Booth (1734–1806).[1]

Booth’s life in brief

The son of a Nottinghamshire farmer, Booth became a stocking weaver in his teens. He had no formal schooling and was compelled to teach himself to read and to write. His early Christian experience was spent among the General, i.e. Arminian, Baptists, but by 1768 he had undergone a complete revolution in his soteriology and had become a Calvinist. Not long after this embrace of Calvinism he wrote The Reign of Grace, from Its Rise to Its Consummation (1768), which the twentieth-century Scottish theologian John Murray regarded as “one of the most eloquent and moving expositions of the subject of divine grace in the English language.” 

It was this book which opened the way for his call to Prescot Street Baptist Church in what was then a wealthy area of London, home to merchants and professional men. Pastoring this church was a challenge to a man who had limited educational opportunities. Booth, though, more than rose to the challenge, in time mastering Greek, Latin, and French, the first two taught to him by a Roman Catholic priest. 

It was at Prescot Street that Booth preached one of his most stirring sermons, Commerce in the Human Species, and the Enslaving of Innocent Persons, inimical to the Laws of Moses and the Gospel of Christ. Preached on January 29, 1792, this sermon was long remembered as a key sermon in Baptist involvement in the fight to abolish both slavery and the slave trade. Booth’s fellow Londoner and Baptist Joseph Ivimey noted that Thomas Clarkson, a key abolitionist, considered it one of the most important documents in the early stages of the anti-slavery movement.

By the time of his death in 1806 Booth was one of the most trusted counsellors in the Particular Baptist denomination. His congregation genuinely adored him for what contemporaries called his “unsullied purity and kindliness.” One of them penned a most moving, though brief, tribute in the church minute book after his death: “He sought not ours, but us.”

Oh for the meekness and gentleness of Christ!

Recently a friend of mine passed along to me a transcription of one of Booth’s letters that he had come across in a nineteenth-century religious magazine. There are few of Booth’s letters extant, and this letter is a gem. In reality, it is more of a wee note than a letter. It is a text that could have easily been tossed out, but it was preserved by the recipient for decades after she had received it.

It was written on August 26, 1805, but five months before Booth’s death. The note was written to a female member of his congregation, to whom, it appears, he had been rather sharp the previous day when speaking with her.

 

My Christian Friend,

I take the first opportunity of acknowledging that, in my treatment of you yesterday, there were some improprieties, which, on reflection, I cannot but condemn, and on account of which I am very sorry. Oh for the meekness and gentleness of Christ! But, as I mean to take an early opportunity of calling upon you, I conclude, and remain,

                                                                   My Christian friend,

                                                                                   Your unworthy pastor,

                                                                                                   Abraham Booth.

August 26 in 1805 was a Monday, and thus it was on the Lord’s day, August 25, that Booth sinned in his speech against this sister. He was a mature Christian by this point in time, yet, as we see in this note, very conscious of the fact that there is never a moment in the believer’s life when grace and gentleness are not needed.



[1] Abraham Booth is not to be confused with the famous founder of the Salvation Army, William Booth (1829–1912).


Tuesday 9 March 2021

The Hard Work of Love

Dr. David Barker, Professor of Biblical Studies (dbarker@heritagecs.edu)

My pastor (my son-in-law Brad) started one of his sermons with the statement, “I remember the day when my wife [my daughter Kristen] fell out of love with me.” It was a startling statement, for sure! He told the story of when they had been married for about a year, and on an evening when his wife was out, he had decided to slum off the evening by relaxing and watching a movie. So, when she got home, here he was, slouched on the couch, clad only in boxers and a t-shirt, chip crumbs down the front of his shirt, beverage cans strewn about the room, one sock off, the other on—a sight that could only be described as disgusting. And he said in his sermon opener, “That’s the day my wife fell out of love with me.”

But then he said one of the most profound statements I have ever heard, “And that’s when the hard work of love began.”

Love is hard work. Biblical love is hard work. Agapé love is hard work. We all know that there are different words for love in the New Testament: phileó—love of kinship, eros—erotic love, storgē—familial love. But the most used and powerful word for love in the NT is agapé —a word that means love of commitment, decision, action, “always acting in the best interest of the other person.” It reflects the Old Testament word ḥesed which means covenantal love, loyal love, love of mercy. Husbands are told to love their wives. Wives are told to love their husbands. We are told to love one another. We are told that God loves us. We are told to love God. We are even told to love our enemies. All too often we are unloveable, to our spouses, to God, to each other, and at times even God seems unloveable when the ceilings are brass, we feel forsaken, and he seems silent and distant.

It is often not easy to love one another. We are all different. We don’t all necessarily like each other. We hurt others, and have been hurt by others. But we are called to agapé love, and when the first blush of joining a community of God’s people, or engaging in any relationship, wears off, we start the hard work of love.

So, we need to lose the sentimental “feel” of love captured in Gordon Lightfoot’s song that so dominates our thinking . . .

 

I never thought I could feel this way,
And I've got to say that I just don't get it.
I don't know where we went wrong,
But the feeling's gone, and I just, can't, get it, back.

 

. . . and get back to what agapé love is all about—decision, action, commitment, sacrifice, humility, loyalty, grace, mercy—everything that God has done in, “And God demonstrated his own love toward us in this: While we were still sinners Christ died for us” (Rom 5:8).

 And yes, while Kristen fell “out of love” with Brad that night (and many of us can tell similar stories in all kinds of relationships), they have been married for over sixteen years now, deeply loving each other — agapé love—a lasting, resilient, committed love of hard work.[1]



[1] And just to be clear, both Kristen and Brad have given me permission to tell this story.


Tuesday 23 February 2021

Your Worlview: A Matter of Life and Death

Professor Frank Vander Meulen, Director of Intercultural Studies (fvandermeulen@heritagecs.edu)

The thief comes to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly” (John 10:10).

This is a worldview statement.

In my classes we use this definition: “Worldview is the foundational assumptions people have regarding the essence and working of reality, by which they perceive, interpret and respond to life.” Worldview addresses what is real in the universe. Whether everything exists by a personal Creator or by natural processes is a matter of worldview: a personal Creator either is or is not real.

Another aspect of worldview is the matter of suffering. Why does it happen? What is the source?

We read of widespread abuse, human trafficking, corruption, addictions, pornography, dysfunctional relationships, loneliness, self-harm, et cetera, ad nauseum. There are many causes.

But Jesus’ words reverberate in my mind: There really is a Thief who seeks to steal, kill and destroy, who is tirelessly active in this world, prowling, lurking, seeking to devour (1 Pet. 5:8).

Satan doesn’t offer death; he offers life! The Forbidden Fruit is the key to greater knowledge and to a great and wonderful new reality! Taste and see!

People take the bait, the trap springs, and we are caught in the grip of death.

There is a way that seems right to a man, but its end is the way to death” (Prov. 14:12).

The full gospel of Jesus Christ must include a new worldview, a new reality. You are not nothing; you are created in the image of God! You are also a sinner separated from God; Jesus died to deal with sin and restore you to God. There is a devil who works to destroy; Jesus came to destroy the works of the devil – and the devil himself! This world is saturated with sin and death; God will create a new earth in which you can enjoy a wholesome, abundant life – forever. Imagine!

The world is aching, suffering, dying. Let us share the abundant eternal life available through Jesus the victorious King.